


Never In Fact Homeless

by amorluzymelodia



Series: Never In Fact Homeless [1]
Category: Supernatural
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-13
Updated: 2017-02-27
Packaged: 2018-03-01 07:55:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 21,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2765531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amorluzymelodia/pseuds/amorluzymelodia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You're homeless and you meet up with TFW, who helps you out in more ways than one.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I am Castiel

“Alright, freeloader time to move it along.” Something hard poked you in the side. “C’mon girl you can’t sleep here.” The cop shoved his nightstick deeper into your side and you rolled over, shielding your eyes against the sunlight. 

“Okay, okay.” You grumbled, getting off the bench. The cop watched to make sure you got to the outskirts of the park and continued on his way. 

You huddled inside your grimy flannel shirt, grateful for the sliver of warmth it provided. You’d acquired it when a particularly righteous Christian mother had given it to you rather than sell it in a yard sale or give it to GoodWill. Of course she probably bought herself a brand new coat from Burlington to celebrate her good deed, leaving you thankful but freezing nonetheless. 

You’d been homeless for about five and a half years now, and were used to the looks people gave you when they handed you something. Their intentions were usually good but hidden by pity and disgust, their skin crawling for every moment they talked to you. So you were used to the second glances people gave you, or the way their eyes skipped over you completely. 

You made your way out of the park and into the rush of the city, hoping to find somewhere to get at least a free bottle of water or some leftovers from some of the shops downtown. It was getting closer to winter and you were already freezing, having barely any body fat to keep you warm. You felt the judgmental, pity-filled glances thrown your way and bowed your head, your hair ruffled by the wind. 

"Oh excuse me miss, I'm sorry I didn't see you." A man bumped into you, his trench coat flying about in the wind. "Are you okay?" He asked and you were shocked to see concern in his eyes. 

Most people ignored you or yelled if you bumped into them but he was checking to make sure you were alright, and looking like he meant it. You nodded. 

"I'm fine," you said and he nodded seriously. 

"Well, take care." He said in his gravelly voice and smiled at you, and kept walking. As you watched him go you noticed he'd dropped something when he'd run into you; his wallet.  

Now, you knew how to pickpocket, in fact you were pretty damn good at it. But in this rare instance your running into him was a complete accident. Had he dropped the wallet on purpose to see if you'd take it? Did he really not notice it was gone? You picked it up and peeked inside. No driver’s license, no credit card, only a few hundred dollars in twenties and a picture of him with a woman and young girl--presumably his wife and daughter. Why would he keep that in his wallet but no driver’s license?  

You hesitated. If he had really dropped it on accident then it would be a while before he realized it was gone, and you'd be long gone by then. Even if he gave your description to the cops there were so many places you could be and one stolen wallet would hardly turn a cops head. You could take it and finally eat, buy a coat or pair of shoes, rent a room for a night maybe. The possibilities were tantalizing. 

But something stopped you. This man had been kind to you, had asked if you were alright, looked you in the eyes--which no one had done in God knows how long. This man had something so inherently good about him, and you hadn’t seen that in anyone before. It was like there was literally a light coming off of him, pulling you in. He hadn't looked at you like a homeless girl or a tramp, but as a person; a human being. And that right there made your mind up for you. 

"Hey!" You called, running to catch up with him. "Sir wait! You dropped something!" He turned as you got to him and you held out the wallet. "I think this is yours." You said breathlessly and he crinkled his eyes, taking it from you. 

"Oh yes," he mused. "Why you all insist on carrying these around baffles me, but Dean assures me it's normal." 

You didn't understand what he was saying but nodded anyway. "Well uh, there you go anyway."  

As you made to turn around he grabbed your shoulder and spun you around. 

"Wait," he said and you wondered if he knew his voice was that deep, and seemed to draw the attention of everyone within earshot. "Here," he opened the wallet and handed you three twenty dollar bills. "For food. I understand humans need quite a lot of it and you look as though you've skipped a few meals." 

He was speaking in riddles again but you didn't care. All you cared about was the money in your hand and the kindness of this stranger.  

"Um, thanks uh..." You paused and he said nothing. "Usually when someone pauses like that they're waiting for you to say your name." 

He nodded seriously. "I am Castiel." 

"Well thanks, Castiel." You said and after a moment of penetrating stare he nodded and turned, leaving you standing there in shock.  

With the money he'd given you you bought a man’s army coat from an army surplus shop, a used pair of chuck Taylor's that at least didn't have holes in the sole, and a sandwich and water bottle from the local deli. You put the rest of the cash in your pocket and walked around the park, trying to find somewhere to sleep that the cops wouldn't kick you out of. 

As you wandered around you felt someone following you and turned, seeing a man in his thirties dressed in a cheap suit and large coat, obviously having just gotten off work. 

"Hey darlin," he called and you rolled your eyes. "Going my way?" 

"Nope," you spat and continued on your way.  

"Okay well how much would it take to make you say yes?" He asked, catching up with you and taking hold of your arm. 

"Not anything you have, mate." You hissed but he held tight. 

"C'mon babe I know you could use the money. I'll be in and out, no muss, no fuss." He slurred and you shoved his arm. 

"I don't need it that bad." You hissed, making to walk away but he grabbed you, whipping you around forcefully.  

"Hey!" He growled. "I don't take no for an answer."  

"Learn to." You hissed. 

You saw the look in his eyes and knew you had seconds. So you kneed him in the stomach and took off running. Unfortunately you hadn't eaten more than a sandwich in a few days so you were slow. He caught up with you quickly and grabbed the back of your jacket. He pulled you so your back was against his chest and you felt the blade of a knife press against your side.  

"You can make this easy or hard," he hissed. "But I'm not paying, not now."  

"Hey!" You heard a gruff voice yell. "Let her go!" Your captor turned and you took your chance. 

You stomped on his foot hard and he loosened his grip, making it easy for you to slip out of the jacket sleeves and take off running. His knife grazed your side as you took off but you kept running. You heard him chasing after you, but you knew this park well and slipped underneath a few bushes where the sewer lines ran. You were small enough--what with being malnourished--that you could fit between the grate easily. You heard him calling but eventually he seemed to realize the chase wasn't worth it and he stomped off.  

You sat in the filth, catching your breath and waited. You heard another set of footsteps come and go but then it was silent. You huddled and reveled in the fact that not only had you lost your new jacket but also the rest of the money and the water bottle. Your side hurt and you felt the blood loss starting to affect you. After about ten minutes you crawled out and dusted yourself off, making your way towards the local dive, shivering without your jacket. 

The bar wasn't extravagant or well known but you knew the bartender and he always treated you kindly. He'd even offered to get you a job but the owner said under no circumstances would he allow someone like you to work in his establishment. Not that he was ever there but you didn't want Colten to lose his job because of you.  

The bell rang over the door as you entered and you noted the lack of patrons, which wasn't unusual. There was old Flint Hurley who came in twice a week, a few tourists who were obviously in the wrong place, a heavily made up woman and her businessman "friend" and a pair of attractive men in cheap suits near the back.  Colten greeted you as you came in and slid a beer down your way. You thanked him and held your side, feeling the hot sticky blood seep through your clothes.  

"I'm gonna need something stronger than this." You whispered and his eyes got wide.  

"Shit." He hissed and called for the busboy to take over while he helped you into the back room.  

As he got out a needle and dental floss--which he kept on hand when you'd come in with lacerations more than a few times--you opened a bottle of whiskey and took a hearty swig. 

"Hey watch it," he warned. "I've got patrons I need to serve that to." 

You huffed a laugh, ignoring the pain. "Oh I'm sorry is there another bar you're running? Because far as I can see I'm the only one who actually gives a damn about this shithole."  

He smiled and lifted up your shirt. "Well that might be true but without this shithole who would take you?" 

He'd meant it as a joke but his words hit home and your grin fell. He noticed and immediately looked down. 

"Sorry Y/N," he said quietly. "You know I didn't mean it like that." 

You shrugged and motioned to your side. "How's it look?" 

"It'll only need a few stitches, you should be fine. What happened this time?" 

"Some asshole didn't know the meaning of no." You winced as he poured some whiskey over the wound and began sewing it up.  

"You've gotta be careful, Y/N." He said seriously. "I mean what if something worse happens? I care about you but I'm not always gonna be here to patch you up." 

"I know, Colt." You murmured and decided to change the subject. "How is Sylvia?" 

A smile lit his face at the mention of his wife. "She's good. Eight months along and still going strong." He paused. "We started  marriage counseling a few months ago."  

"Colt that's great! Does that mean she knows--?" 

He shook his head. "I told her nothing happened." 

"Good because nothing did. We got drunk,  I told you my pathetic life story. You felt bad for me and kissed me, you stopped it. That's it."  

Colt shrugged, looking awkward. "I still feel guilty." 

"Don't," you assured him. "Sylvia is amazing, and you've got a baby on the way. Don't let some tramp ruin that." 

He looked up at you, smiling sadly as he finished the stitches. "You're not a tramp." 

"Tramp, whore, bum, addict. They're all the same, take your pick. Long story short I'm a homeless mess."  

Colt patted you on the shoulder and looked like he wanted to say something else so you quickly pulled your shirt down and hopped off the table. 

"Thanks for patching me up." You told him. "I hope everything goes well with Sylvia."  

"I'll keep you posted," Colt said and gave you a hug, handing you a water bottle and some weird pasty thing that would at least keep you from starving. "Stay safe." 

You nodded and made your way out of the back room, waving to Colt before leaving the bar. The wind had picked up and now that the sun was down it had dropped almost ten degrees. You huddled in your flannel and walked around the park, trying to find a place to sleep. Just as you passed the bench you'd been kicked off of that morning you noticed a lump sitting on it. Upon closer inspection you recognized your old army coat. Hesitantly you approached, wondering if the pervert from before was playing some game with you, but there was no one in sight. Instead there was a piece of paper pinned to the coat and in very elegant handwriting was a note, with four twenties attached. 

*You returned my wallet, so I'm returning your coat, and the money you lost. Stay safe. -Castiel* 


	2. Angel of the Lord

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Sorry for the delay guys. To be honest I'm not too happy w/ this chapter but I wanted to get it published b/c people have being waiting patiently. So here goes nothing.

Despite the kindness of the stranger Castiel you hadn’t had much luck recently. It was getting colder as winter approached, and as the parks filled with ice and snow parents and children came out to play. Which meant of course that the police were doubly making sure that no bums were wandering around. This time of year meant that the soup kitchens and homeless shelters were full and your usual spots to pass out were most likely taken. Which left you to wander. Some nights you found an unlocked lobby to an office building and curled up in a corner until a security guard kicked you out. There were places you could go, “friends” that would take you in, but not without a price. And you weren’t sure their price was one you wanted to pay. 

You still had some of the money Castiel had returned to you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to use all of it. You would buy food when you needed it, but even then you preferred to steal it, or find leftovers. It was easier and you wanted to have as much cash as possible in case you found yourself in a tight spot—well, tighter than usual. 

Part of you hoped you’d run into Castiel again. He was unusual but had been kind to you, and helped you when you were at your lowest. You couldn’t understand why he had helped you, or how he knew where you were. You could only assume he was your savior that night, and you wondered what he did to the man who attacked you. Part of you hoped he killed him, and another part knew that he was too kind to kill someone. Regardless, you wanted to see him again. 

A cop car drove past and you ducked behind a tree, knowing if they saw you they were sure to stop and tell you to get lost. You were freezing and hungry and there was a convenience store down the street from where you were. There were some items you absolutely needed and you didn’t want to spend your money on them, saving it for a metaphorically rainy day. 

You'd gotten pretty good at pickpocketing and shoplifting over the years. You never took from a mom and pop store, knowing your theft would hurt them. But big chains could stand to lose a few things and wouldn't take a hit. So as you stood in the drugstore you didn't think twice before swiping a water bottle and banana from the shelves. Your coat was bulky enough that you could fit something else so you headed through the aisles, hoping to get some honey mustard pretzels, your favorite. You also grabbed a toothbrush and some toothpaste, a box of tampons and a bar of soap. The coat was about filled to its limit and you made your way toward the exit, only to be stopped by a hard hand on your elbow. 

"Where do you think you're going?" It was the manager, looking mad as all hell. 

"Let me go," you hissed but his grip tightened. 

"Nuh uh. Now I've seen you around, skulking, all filthy and thieving. This is the last time you steal from me missy!" 

"I'm not stealing anything, now let me go!" You wrenched away but he grabbed your wrist and dragged you behind the counter. 

"I've had enough of you bums taking from me! I'm calling the police! This ends today." 

You froze, if he called the police they'd look up your record, and that was the last thing you needed. 

"Please, I won't take anything, just please don't call the cops." 

The manager just smirked at you. "You should've thought of that before you put your grimy hands on my merchandise." 

He picked up the phone. 

"What's going on here?" A deep voice asked and you and be manager looked up at the ridiculously tall man standing in front of you. His brown hair fell almost to his shoulders, which were wide and strong even beneath his cheap suit. You couldn't help but feel you'd seen him somewhere before. 

"Nothing that concerns you, just punishing a shoplifter." The manager said and the man looked from him to your face and placed his hands on the phone, ending the call. "Hey! Who do you think you are?!" 

"Agent Barton, FBI." The man said, flashing his badge and the manager slammed the phone down immediately. "And this girl has been on a wanted list for quite some time. If you don't mind I'll take her off your hands." 

Your heart stopped. FBI? How long had he been following you? Are there more? Could you even outrun him? 

"Well looksie here!" The manager yelled gleefully. "Looks like you finally got what's coming to you!" He held up his hands. 

"She's all yours agent. But first, let's see what she's stolen." The man nodded and waved his hand to indicate you should proceed. The pit in your stomach deepened as you took out your spoils from your coat. As you placed each item on the counter the manager's face got redder but the FBI agent’s eyebrows creased. 

"Ah ha! I told you she was a thief!" 

"She will be punished accordingly." The agent said. "But first I'd like to purchase these items." 

You were sure you and the manager had similar faces of shock. The agent pulled out his wallet and handed the manager two twenty dollar bills. 

"You--you're....thank you for your business." The manager stuttered. 

The man nodded seriously and put his hand on the small of your back, leading you from the store. You knew he had a gun on him and running wouldn't stop a bullet. Maybe you could get him somewhere secluded, knock him out and take off? But you didn't like your chances. 

He led you to a gorgeous '67 impala and opened the passenger door for you, before hopping in the drivers side. 

"How's a fed get a ride like this?" You asked hesitantly and he grinned as he pulled out of the parking lot. 

"I'm not a fed." He admitted and you raised your eyebrows. "My name is Sam Winchester. And I know someone who needs help when I see it." 

You huffed and crossed your arms. "I figured with a name like Agent Barton and the fact you bought me that stuff you couldn't be for real. And I don't need your help." You sounded like a toddler even to your own ears. Sam just laughed. 

"Yeah the stolen pretzels and toothpaste reiterate that fact real well. But hey I've got a fake FBI badge so who am I to judge?" 

You swallowed. "I'm guessing the story behind that is too long and weird for me to follow?" 

Sam laughed and nodded. "Oh I'm sure you could keep up." 

He didn't say anything else and after a moment you noticed you were still driving. 

"Where are you taking me?" You asked. 

"My motel. My brother and I are in town for a few days, figured you could use a shower." 

His words made you nervous and you fidgeted, knowing if it came down to it you couldn't fight him off. He seemed to notice your fear. 

"Don't worry," he assured you. "I'm not gonna hurt you. Truth be told I've been where you are. All I'm trying to do is help." 

"People try and 'help' all the time." You hissed. "They always have ulterior motives." 

Sam didn't say anything for a long while, and when you pulled into the lot of a grimy motel he sighed and shut off the engine, not getting out immediately. 

"Look I know you have no reason to trust me and you've probably been dealt every shit hand possible, but all I'm trying to do is help. In whatever insignificant way I can. I have no ulterior motives here. I swear." 

Something in his eyes made you trust him and you nodded, getting out of the car and heading to the room he pointed out. He grabbed a duffle from the trunk and unlocked the door for you. 

You walked in and the first thing you noticed was the assortment of weaponry lying around the room. Guns, knives and what you could only describe as a sword. Terrified, you made to run out of the room but as you turned you ran smack dab into a burly chest. You took a step back and saw Sam standing next to a man wearing an old leather jacket and flannel, not quite as tall as Sam but towering above you nonetheless. You held up your hands quickly. 

"I won't tell anyone anything, just please don't kill me!" You begged and Sam sighed while the other man rolled his eyes. 

"Jesus Sammy what did you tell her?" 

"Me?" Sam demanded. "She's probably freaking out because you left all the weapons lying around the room!" 

"Oh yeah you're right I should've expected you to pick up a stray on your way home!" 

"She's not a stray she's--" 

"What the hell is going on?!" You demanded, and the men sighed and Sam held up his hands. 

"Okay, I know this looks bad--" he started and you gawked. 

"No this is completely normal! Jesus Christ this is crazy! Please don't hurt me I'll do whatever you want." 

The other man reached out a hand and you took a step back, but when he spoke his voice was calm and consoling. 

"Hey, hey we aren't going to hurt you! I'm Dean, you've met Sam. What's your name?" 

"Y-y/n..." You murmured. "And you'd better give me a good reason for all those weapons or I'm gonna start screaming." 

Dean nodded. "Okay you're not gonna believe this but he and I--" he motioned to Sam and himself. "We're hunters. We hunt monsters. Werewolves, vampires, the works. Have been since we were kids. Basically everything that goes bump in the night, is real, and we're the ones cleaning up the mess." 

You gaped but after a moment you nodded. "Okay." 

Dean gaped at you. "Really?" 

"Well what do you want me to say?" 

"I don't know, that we're crazy? Maybe punch us in the face?" 

You shrugged. "I've been homeless for a while now. After what I've seen regular *people* do the fact that monsters are real doesn't really come as a huge surprise. When you're literally fighting to survive day in and day out your idea of what's real and what's not changes." 

The man named Dean looked at you with a hint of admiration and shock and nodded. 

"So how'd you two meet up?" 

"Sam kind of bailed me out of a rough situation. Turns out a fake FBI badge can come in handy." 

Dean frowned and turned to Sam. "You bailed her out of jail? What'd you do?" 

"Shoplifting," you stayed as nonchalant as possible. 

Dean grinned. "Well we've been all been there. What'd you steal that almost landed you in jail?" 

You held up the bag of items and handed it to Dean, who rooted through them and upon finding the tampons clammed up and shoved the bag back at you. 

"Well can't blame a girl for taking care of herself." the back of Dean's neck was red and you grinned. "Well our shithole is your shithole I guess. Make yourself at home.” 

Sam, you just now noticed, was putting away the weapons and handed you a large tee-shirt and a pair of boxers. 

“You already have soap so don’t worry about that, and there’s shampoo and conditioner in there.” He said and you smiled. 

“Yeah and don’t worry, Sam uses that weird stuff without a scent so you won’t smell like handsome man-meat.” Dean joked, sinking back and helping himself to the pretzels. “Unless you want to, in which case we can arrange that.” He winked at you and you couldn’t help but smile. 

“Maybe later big boy. I think I’ll stick with the scentless crap.” You winked back at him and headed off to the bathroom. 

The hotel was a shithole that was for sure but it had running water and no one was going to kick you out so you were happy here. The water was hot and you let it run until all the scum was scrubbed from your body. You even washed your hair, making sure all the dust was gone and you could run your fingers through it easily. 

You wrapped yourself in a towel and wrapped another around your hair, something you hadn’t done in years. The mirror was all fogged up and you wiped your hand over it, revealing your pale, bruised, gaunt face. You weren’t much to look at, even when you were well fed. It was near impossible to find makeup when you were homeless and it was impractical. But you didn’t care anymore, who cares what you look like on the streets? A bum is a bum. 

You started to open the door but stopped when you heard Sam and Dean whisper your name in a heated conversation. 

You couldn’t hear much through the door, but you did hear one thing that made your heart skip a beat. 

“We need to call Castiel. Maybe he can find a place to send her, keep her safe. Or watch over her until we get the case finished up. I don’t feel comfortable just throwing her back on the streets.” Sam was saying. And at the mention of Castiel’s name your throat closed up. They knew Castiel? Did they know he had met you? Saved you? Is that why Sam decided to take you in in the first place? 

Suddenly you felt out of place, worried, threatened. If these two claimed to be monster hunters, what did that make Castiel? Was he a hunter as well? Or something else? He didn’t have to be a monster, but was he something other than human? A knock at the door startled you and you opened it to reveal Sam, holding out one of the hotel’s two coffee mugs. You thanked him and took it, barely wincing when the whiskey burned your throat. 

“Look you don’t need to take care of me.” You said quickly, knowing where the conversation was headed. “I mean I appreciate the shower and the bailout but I’ve live on my own for a while now, I can handle myself.” 

Dean nodded and sipped his own whiskey. “It’s not that we don’t believe you but…we’d prefer to keep an eye on you, make sure you’re okay.” 

“No, really you don’t have to. I promise I can take care of my—“ 

“Y/N.” a deep voice made you turn and when you saw Castiel standing in front of you, seeming to appear out of nowhere you jumped back. 

“Castiel.” You said quietly and you didn’t miss the kindness and relief in his eyes. 

“I’m relieved to see you’re alright. And you found your coat. I didn’t know where to leave it, but I though the bench would be as good of a place as any.” 

“It—it was, thank you. And thank you for the money and getting rid of that asshole by the way.” 

“You’re hurt.” He said, his eyes creasing and you just now remembered the slice in your side. 

“Oh, it’s nothing. A friend patched me up. Really I’m fine.” 

But as you spoke, trying to reassure the three of them that you were indeed fine, Castiel reached out and touched his hand to your forehead and a calming heat flowed through your body, centering on your wound in your side and then it was gone. You lifted your shirt and the cut was gone, stitches and all. Not a scar, not even a change in the color of the skin. 

“What—what—how—I—“ you swallowed and took a few steps back. “What the hell are you?!” you demanded and he looked at you calmly. 

“I am an angel of the Lord.”


	3. "Home"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *unedited/unbeta'd all mistakes are mine*
> 
> Let me know what you guys think! I'm open to suggestions since I still have some writer's block concerning this story.

You stood there in shock for a moment, hoping he would yell surprise or that you'd heard him wrong. But he didn't, the three of them just stood there, Sam and Dean not even looking phased. So you stuttered out a response.

"God isn't real." was the only thing you could think to say and you heard Dean huff a laugh.

"Well he ain't much to talk about but he is real." he said and your eyes shot wider. 

"So if God is real then...then angels are real too?"

Castiel nodded. "Yes. And I am one I assure you. I can provide proof should you need it."

You held up your hands quickly. "No, no that's okay!" this was scaring you more than the monster talk, and truthfully it made you angry.

You'd never believed in God. Not even when you were little. You'd seen to much bad in the world. You'd been homeless since you were seventeen, had been beaten, abused, all before you were an adult. What kind of god let that happen? What kind of god would allow the things you'd seen happen to take place his His world? 

"I know it's a lot to take in, kiddo, but I promise you...he's telling you the truth." Dean said kindly and you took a deep breath.

"If you're an angel..." you turned to Castiel, still not believing. "Then why did you help me?" 

Castiel squinted and tilted his head to the side. "I don't understand what you mean."

"You helped me." you reminded him. "You gave me money, you stopped that guy from raping me!" Sam and Dean exchanged looks at that bit of information but you ignored them. "You're supposed to be off fighting heavenly battles and healing the sick, not helping some random homeless chick! I'm not worth it I--you're not supposed to be real!" you were aware that you were yelling but didn't care. Your whole world, whole way of thinking was shattering. This man, this angel couldn't really be telling you that he took time out of his day, his entire existence just to give you a few dollars cash. It didn't make sense. You weren't anything special, not even for a bum. All you were was a drug addict, homeless mess who didn't give a damn about anything and would do anything to get her next fix or a place to sleep. In fact it had been a while since you'd had your last fix and you'd told yourself you wouldn't go back after a bad trip but already you were sweating and shaky and it had only been about a week. 

"I can't be here." you said quickly and tried to push past them but Sam took a step in front of you.

"Whoa whoa Y/N! I get this is a lot to take in but I swear we are telling the truth. We aren't going to hurt you and I swear we didn't bring you here under any false pretenses."

"Yeah we didn't even know you knew Cas." Dean said but you were still breathing hard. 

"I'm sorry I--I have to leave." you said but Castiel put a hand on your arm and you froze.

"You are upset." he said quietly and you tried to stop shaking, whether from fear or withdrawal you weren't sure. "Are you angry that I helped you?"

You shook your head. "Angels aren't real." you hissed. "You're all just crazy and I'm leaving." 

Cas looked at you for a long moment, almost looking hurt. Then he let you go and Sam and Dean moved out of the way as you grabbed your bag of items and took off, huddling in your coat, hating that you had it because some lunatic angel--guy--decided you were worth a lame joke. You were angry and hurt and felt stupid that you'd fallen for it. 

You made your way downtown, huddling against the cold and finding a coffee shop, eating some of your pretzels and trying to ignore your shaking hands. It was freezing outside but you were sweating and your heart was racing. You needed a fix and soon. So, ignoring you gut, you made your way further into the city, towards a house that held no good things, but exactly what you needed.

You knocked on the door twice fast, once and then twice again, hoping that that was still the code. The door opened, but just enough that the chain caught and a pair of bloodshot green eyes were staring at you.

"Well shit." He hissed and the door closed before opening it again to reveal a man you knew from before. He was your primary dealer and you weren't exactly thrilled to see him again, seeing as how you'd bolted after a particularly bad night with no word of warning and hadn't been back since. But he had been kinder to you than most so you hoped he'd give you what you wanted. 

"Well well well if it isn't little miss Y/N. Where you been Bella?" You rolled for eyes. Leo thought by calling you "Bella" he was being sophisticated but all it did was piss you off and make him sound slow and arrogant.

"Hey Leo," you tried to sound upbeat but your voice was hoarse and you could barely stand. "I need a place to crash."

He leaned against the frame and crossed his arms. 

"I don't know Y/N, you left in a pretty big hurry. Not even a goodbye. And as I recall you didn't pay up for your last hit."

You sighed, huddling in your coat and the cash in your pocket seemed to weigh one hundred pounds. Leo smiled and you noted a few new empty spaces. 

"Leo look--" you started but he cut you off. 

"Look since you're family I guess I can cut you some slack."

You sighed but your relief was short lived.

"But you're gonna have to give me something for tonight, I can't just let you off scot free. Now how would that look?"

You swallowed and he smiled, putting a hand on your waist possessively.

"Don't worry Bella, I've still got some of your usual lying around. You'll enjoy it I promise." 

You tried to maneuver out of his hold without looking weak or scared, even though you were both.

"I don't do that anymore. I'm clean."

He laughed. "Please, you aren't clean. Once a druggie always a druggie, it just changes forms."

You pursed your lips. "Seriously Leo, I'm out." 

"Then why are you here?" He smirked and you looked at your feet.

"Exactly." 

You scratched at the track marks on your arm, constant reminders of your weakness.

"I don't do heroin anymore." Your voice was stronger now but he just shrugged.

"So fine, maybe you aren't into the same stuff anymore. I've got plenty of other merchandise." He held out a small packet to you, which you knew contained pills, and a small brown bag which you were sure had a needle inside. "Figure you could use a few uppers. No charge." You raised your eyebrows. "Call it a 'welcome back' gift." He smiled a toothless grin at you. "C'mon Y/N take them. I'll even do 'em with you, full customer satisfaction. I know you're itching for it." 

You swallowed. You'd been clean for a week or so now, promising yourself you'd stop after a bad trip. But the temptation of free product, a new one you hadn't tried before, was too sweet to pass up. So you snatched the bags from him and shoved them in your coat without a second glance. He smiled at you and nodded his head.

"Atta girl. Welcome home." He stepped aside to let you in and with each step you took inside the shack you felt a part of yourself dying.


	4. You're Not Real

A few hours later and you couldn't have moved if you'd wanted to, you were too drugged up. Leo had given you a few uppers liked he'd said, and at first you'd remembered why you'd gotten into this in the first place. The high. It was all laughs and smiles and good vibes for a while, until Leo shot something into your arm that made your skin crawl. Literally. You saw maggots and worms crawling out of your skin and began scratching at your arms to get them off, but that only seemed to make them angrier, and more took their place. When you finally felt yourself coming down enough to calm down and tell yourself that what you were seeing wasn't real, Leo approached you.

"Hey doll," he slurred, drunk and high and everything in between. "Come 'ere." he took your hand and pulled you down a hallway, towards a back room with a bed, which he sat you down on. "Time to pay your fee." he smiled a toothless grin at you and pushed you backwards so you were laying on your back, with him over you. You couldn't have stopped him if you'd wanted to. There were colors and shapes swirling around you, faceless creatures leering at you from the shadows, and truthfully you hardly noticed what Leo was doing to you, only his haphazard thrusts and weak grunts when he finished, landing on top of you with a huff. 

You sat there for a moment, trying to decide if the man standing at the door was real or not. When his face morphed into a lizard you decided he wasn't real and pushed Leo off of you, doing up your pants and making your way back into the main room, sitting down next to a random addict who was there, who handed you a razor and began forming his own lines, indicating you should do the same. You had said you wouldn't do heroin anymore, had promised yourself, and yet it was sitting in front of you, right for the taking. And your resolve was so low you couldn't resist. So you snorted deeply, hoping the high would be a good one.

You were wrong. The maggots came back, this time with friends who burrowed into your skin. You could feel them chewing, hear them swallowing your flesh, leaving little holes behind. And it destroyed you. You scratched harder at your skin, digging in your nails when they didn't go away, drawing blood. But the maggots fed off it, slurping it down and burrowing deeper. Something jumped out of the wall at you, passing through you and leaving you cold. Someone was laughing too loud, scaring you. So when you couldn't get the maggots off you picked up the razor in front of you and slashed at your wrist, hoping to drown them in your blood.

That was when you saw him. He was just a bright light but he was there, wings and all. And you cried out to him in anger and fear.

 

"Just kill me already!" you screamed, unaware of the tears rolling down your or the blood leaving your body. "Why are you doing this? Why did you save me? Was it to watch me suffer? To laugh at? Why?!" 

He flashed bright white and vanished, which made you even more fearful oddly enough.

"Castiel!" You cried. "Castiel! Get back here you bastard!" 

You tried to get up but fell over the table in front of you, knocking drugs and knows what else to the ground. You fell and could feel your head hit the ground, but wasn't coherent enough to care. You saw him appear again, this time in his suit and trench coat and he tilted his head at you, looking concerned. 

"I am sorry, Y/N." he said. "I will fix this." 

"You're not real!" you shouted as he reached out a hand to touch your forehead. "You're not real..." but you were already drifting off, sleeping or into unconsciousness, you didn't really care.

When you woke up your first thought was that your head didn't hurt. Usually after a night like you would be in a lot of pain. But this morning there was none. That and the fact that warmth surrounded you and you could smell coffee led you to one thought.

You were dead.

It was the only explanation. Either you'd overdosed last night or Castiel was listening and had killed you. You weren't sure if you were pleased about that, and if you truly were dead...where was the coffee coming from? 

With that question in mind you opened your eyes slowly, seeing not the ceiling of the dump you'd passed out in last night, but a plain concrete ceiling. Underneath you was a soft mattress, and covering you were soft sheets and your head was placed on a comfortable pillow. The walls were bare but it was clearly a well-used room. There were flannels strewn around the room and the closet door was open to reveal even more flannels and what looked like a grey bathrobe. Where the hell were you?

Your question was answered however when none other than Sam Winchester walked through the door, causing your heart to race and you to shoot up in bed--you were surprised that that movement didn't cause you to black out. 

"Where the hell am I?" you demanded and Sam just sighed, placing a tray you only now noticed, containing juice, water and waffles on the bedside table and sitting down next to you. 

"You're at our bunker." he said calmly. "Castiel heard your prayer and when he found you he didn't know what to do, so he brought you here."

"I didn't pray to him." you hissed but Sam just shook his head.

"Well you must've or he wouldn't have been able to hear you. He said you were pretty messed up when he found you. He wasn't sure why but I'm willing to bet it was drugs." he paused, his eyebrows raised. "Am I right?" 

You grit your teeth and looked at your hands, startled when you realized the cuts from last night were nowhere to be seen, not even a scar. Just plain, pure skin. 

"I had a bad trip," you admitted shamefully. "It's not the first time it's happened." 

Sam just nodded and picked up the water, handing it to you and not looking away until you'd drank the whole glass. 

"Well you've got Cas to thank for fixing your arms." he said.

"What?" you asked, confused and Sam nodded.

"Cas said when he found you you were bleeding and crying and shaking. I'm guessing your bad trip caused you to see some scary things huh?" 

You just turned away from him and grabbed the plate of waffles. "Are these for me?" you asked and he nodded. 

"Dean made 'em. Seemed to think you looked a bit thin."

You huffed a laugh around a mouthful of food. "Yeah well being homeless ain't exactly the most nutritious way to live."

You noticed Sam didn't look uncomfortable at your mention of being homeless, which surprised you. Most of the time when the fact you were homeless came up with someone who wasn't--church moms, volunteers at the shelter etc--their reactions were to look down in shame, like it was their fault or something. But Sam didn't look at you differently, just like he knew how you felt. And somehow you believed that he did. 

"You ever been homeless Sam?" you asked quietly and he smiled slightly. 

"Not exactly. Dean and I...we moved around a lot as kids. Our job takes us all over the country, so we never really had a house. But we had our car so...no. We were never really homeless." 

You furrowed your brow. "So you've been doing this since you were kids?"

Sam nodded. "Our dad raised us in it."

"Sounds like an A+ dad." you scoffed. "But who am I to talk? Mine kicked me out when I was seventeen."

"Why--" Sam was cut off by Dean entering the room, carrying yet another tray of food, this one containing potatoes and sausage.

"Ah good you're awake." He said and set the tray down next to it's partner. "We need to talk." 

"About what?" you demanded.

"About that suicide attempt, Y/N." He said gruffly. "Cas found you half alive, slits on your wrists and so drugged up you probably thought he was a hallucination. What the hell were you thinking?"

You put the plate down, suddenly not hungry.

"Who do you think you are?" you demanded. "You're not my father or my priest, you don't get to scoop me up off the street and demand to know all about my life because you did me a kindness. How I live my life is my business, not yours." 

"Well you're life seems pretty screwed up kid." 

"You're one to talk." you spat and Dean just laughed.

"Hey kid I know my life is fucked up, I accept that. It's you who hasn't seemed to." 

You just scoffed and pushed the covers back, thankful Cas had healed you so you could walk fine without a hangover or injuries. 

"Look I don't need rescuing okay? I'm a big girl, I can handle myself. So thanks for patching me up but I'm good."

"You're not going anywhere, chief." Dean said smugly and you glared at him. 

"Oh yeah?" you demanded. "Who's gonna stop me?"

"Y/N." It was Castiel, and you froze. "Please, stay." 

"Why should I?" you demanded, turning towards him angrily.

"Because we care about you, Y/N." Sam said kindly. "And we can help you."

You took is his kind face, his puppy-dog eyes and the three of them looking at you not like a project...but like a person. So you took a deep breath and spoke.

"Start talking."


	5. Nothing In Return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is kind of slow and more of a filler chapter but the next chapter will have more bulk to it I promise!

"We want to help you, Y/N." Sam repeated. "But you need to work with us too."

"Why?" You asked. "Why do you want to help me?"

"Because you've been given a shit hand in life and you don't deserve it." Dean said knowingly and you huffed a laugh. 

"You don't know that," you said scathingly. "You don't know me or my life. I could be a murderer, a drug dealer, I could've hurt people. Why would you want to help a person like that?"

"Because," Castiel spoke up. "You gave me my wallet back. I find it hard to believe a person in your situation would do that without having some good in them."

"A moment of weakness." You hissed but they didn't look like they believed you.

"Look kid we're trying to help you, nothing in it for us, so why don't you cut us some slack and just work with us here?" Dean was getting impatient, you could tell but Sam put a hand on his arm. 

You stopped a moment, latching on to something he'd said. They didn't want anything in return, didn't expect anything from you. You hadn't heard words like that spoken honestly since...well since you were a child. You'd been kicked out at seventeen, and even when your parents offered for you to stay it came with an ultimatum, one that you chose not to take. And here were three men--well two men and an angel--who were offering you their help for seemingly nothing in return. It made your heart clench and your stomach leap but you needed to make sure they weren't bluffing before you accepted their help. Because if you were being honest with yourself--something that was getting increasingly harder to do--you wanted their help, needed it. And if last night was any indication, you needed it desperately. 

"You...you really don't want anything from me?" you asked quietly and Sam's eyes softened.

"Of course not. This isn't a drug deal, Y/N. We just want to help you." 

"I bet your dealer or whatever wouldn't say that." Dean breathed. "I'm sure last night's stay at casa del drug den wasn't free huh?"

You looked down at your feet but that was answer enough for them, you heard Sam clear his throat and Dean shift awkwardly. Castiel however came up to you and put a hand on your shoulder gently.

"Y/N." he said quietly and you met his gaze, trying not to shy away from how intense it was. "Please. Sam and Dean are good men, the best I've known in all of creation. I trust them with all I have, and you should believe them when they say they want nothing in return."

You stood there, your gaze flitting between the three of them for a long moment before you nodded slowly, memories of last night, of the drugs, sex, blood, hallucinations all coming back to you. You knew if you kept that up you would die, or be killed because let's face it, dealers don't take it well when you can't pay. Cas squeezed your shoulder and Sam smiled at you.

"Okay then, lets get to work." Dean said and you looked at him.

"Work?" you asked, worried but he just shrugged.

"Don't worry kiddo." he said kindly. "We truly don't want anything from you, but we'd love your cooperation with this next part. It'l make things a whole lot easier for all of us."

"What is 'the next part'?" you asked shakily and Sam smiled at you kindly.

"Rehab." 

"I thought Cas fixed me." you said quickly. "Got all the drugs out of my system."

Castiel nodded. "I was able to flush your system of the drugs currently in it, but your body will still be addicted to those drugs you've taken beforehand. I cannot fix that."

"Goodie." you voice shook slightly.

"Don't worry, kid." Dean said. "You won't be in this alone. We'll be here to help you through it."

"You sound like you've done this before." you noted and Sam laughed quietly to himself.

"Well let's just say I uh...I've been where you are before."

"You were an addict?" you couldn't believe it, this giant moose of a man, he seemed so pure.

"Demon blood. Nasty stuff." Dean clarified and you frowned when you realized he wasn't kidding.

"O-okay." you took a deep breath. "Well I guess if Sam can get off fucking demon blood I can do this right?"

Sam smiled at you. "Atta girl."

Dean clapped his hands together and you looked at him expectantly. "Alright kid, lets get started. Let me show you to your quarters!" he bowed like a bellman and motioned for you to lead the way out of the room before hopping in front of you and leading you down a myriad of hallways to a simple room, just a bed, dresser and a door you assumed led to an en-suite bathroom. You took a deep breath.

"Okay, lets get started."


	6. You're a Fighter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I have never been through withdrawal of any kind so all my info about what it's like came from the internet. If I've put anything in here that isn't accurate please don't hesitate to correct me!

Have you ever had the flu? Not like just feeling queasy once and then being fine but the real full on flu? Vomiting, shaking, sweating one minute and being freezing the next? And wishing above all else that it would just end? That you can go back to a time when you didn't feel this way? And you'd give anything to be well again?

That's what withdrawal is like. 

The first few days weren't so bad, you'd gone that length of time without before. But around the fifth or sixth day you started to crave it again. But you were able to distract yourself. Dean would put on a movie he knew you hadn't seen--apart from the occasional sneaking in to a theatre you hadn't seen any movies in years--or would let you help him in the kitchen while he cooked. He truly was a phenomenal cook but wouldn't accept praise from anyone...well except Cas. When he told Dean how delicious his burritos were--not that angels need food but still--Dean blushed and shrugged it off. You wondered if anything was going on there. 

Sam would let you explore the library with him, reading up on all kinds of creatures you'd had no idea existed and told you stories of he and Dean fighting off said creatures. He introduced you to a whole world you'd had no idea existed and as you delved deeper and deeper the more interested you got.

But their distractions only worked for so long. It wasn't long before your body craved it's next fix so hard that it had you shaking in your seat, unable to hold a knife steady while helping Dean. It had you squeezing your eyes shut when reading with Sam, trying not to vomit on the books. And pretty soon you were a complete wreck.

It felt like the flu at first, just aches and pains throughout your body, and the occasional nausea. But it got worse. You were holed up in the room they'd put you in, wrapped in blanket after blanket, shivering and shaking and sweating. You were constantly making runs to the bathroom, spewing who-knows-what from both ends of your body. But you couldn't sit still, you wanted to be up and moving, you were fidgeting and twitching and occasionally your leg would jerk out in a kicking motion, completely uncontrolled by you.

And the worst part? You couldn't sleep. There wasn't a moment of peace during this awful period, not even the sweet release of sleep. Though when you did happen to drift off your dreams were hardly filled with lolipops and candy canes. Every bad trip you'd ever had came rushing back to you in dream form, and this time there was no Castiel to pull you out, patch you up.

Sam said this is what was to be expected, and though he wasn't surprised you could tell for some odd reason it pained him and Dean to see you this way. They did everything they could, bless them. Dean kept water in you at all times, even when you threw it up immediately. He also made sure you ate, even when you felt like doing anything but. Sam used his gigantic body to warm you when you got too cold and would read books out loud to you in an attempt to distract you from your pain. It hurt to move so they came to you, bringing you whatever you wanted. Except that is, what you wanted the most.

"Just give it to me, Sam!" you screeched at him one day when the craving became too much. "I can tell you where to get it just go and get me some! I'm begging you I'll do anything! Just a little just to take the edge off I promise it'll be the last time."

But he stood firm, they all did. They denied you even when you threatened them and yourself, knowing full well you were too weak to do anything you proposed. You called Dean every foul name you knew, told him he was nothing but a freak and how dare he try and take this away from you but he just shrugged and forced more water into your system. Sam looked at you sympathetically, which you hated. You knew he understood what you were going through and you hated him for it. You hated that he knew your pain and wasn't doing anything about it. Even though your brain knew he was helping, your body craved the drug and hated him for keeping it from you.

Somehow in the stupor of withdrawal you'd convinced yourself they had it and were hiding it from you. Voices whispered in your ears that they had it hidden, if you could just find it then everything would be okay.

And that is how Dean found you tearing apart his kitchen in search of the drugs that weren't there. And when you screamed at him to give them you or you would hurt yourself he had Cas knock you out. It was the first real sleep you'd had in ages. 

Cas, oddly enough wasn't around as much as you thought he'd be. He was the one who kick started this whole thing when he gave you his wallet, why wasn't he around? On a day when you were too tired to move you breathed out his name and with a flap of wings he appeared next to you, sitting on the bed and staring at you, laying there, broken and beaten. 

"I'm sick aren't I Cas?" you croaked and he nodded gently. "So why can't you fix me? You fixed me up real good last time, why not now?"

"This...this isn't a sickness I can heal with a touch, Y/N." he said sadly and you coughed roughly, the action causing your entire body to scream out in pain.

"Sam taught me about angels," you said when your coughing fit subsided. "You guys are pretty badass, even if you're also raging douchebags."

Cas' mouth lifted in a smile. "Dean has informed me we can be, yes." 

"But you're not are you Cas?" you looked up at him wearily. "You helped me, and you didn't have to. You saved me from getting attacked and you're helping me now. I still think you're all fucking insane." you admitted and Cas laughed slightly. "But at least you're being nice to me." you sighed. "I can't remember the last time someone was nice to me. Leo gave me a place to stay but he just wanted sex, he didn't want to help me." you were ranting now but you didn't care, you were too worn out and Castiel made you feel safe. "You guys," you pointed at him weakly. "You want to help me for some fucked up reason, because you'd have to be fucked up to help me. Because I'm fucked up."

"Y/N..." Cas started to cut you off but you kept talking.

"My own parents didn't even want me." you knew you were bordering on uncharted territory but you didn't care, it felt like you were dying anyway so why not tell Cas everything. "They kicked me out when I was seventeen, just up and kicked out their own daughter can you believe that?" he didn't answer, but you didn't really need him to. "Not that my dad was ever that great. He used to hit me you know, like all the time. My mom too, but she didn't ever fight back, not once. I think that's why she kicked me out too...it was easier than fighting. She was never a fighter, not when it came to him. I begged her to fight for me, but he had his claws too deep in her. Maybe that's why it was so easy for me to believe in monsters..." you frowned. "I'd already seen the horrible things humans could do to their own kind...monsters couldn't be far off from that I guess." tears formed in your eyes and you took a shaky breath. "I don't want to die, Cas." you whispered, terrified. "But I'm...I'm scared that I won't make it through this. Or I will and then I'll go right back to the drugs...I--I don't know what to do, Cas!" you were shaking and crying.

Castiel looked at you sadly and sighed deeply. He reached out cautiously and ran a hand through your hair gently and after days of feeling achey his touch felt refreshing. 

"You are a fighter, Y/N." he whispered. "You've seen more monsters in this world than anyone should have to, even if they were human and you've been through more than is fair. And you're still here. I regret that I cannot fix this with a touch, but perhaps I can ease the pain?" he moved his hand to your forehead and you caught his wrist. 

"Castiel?" you whispered.

"Yes?" he asked and you smiled at him kindly.

"Thank you." 

"You are welcome." with that he touched your head and you fell into a deep sleep, one without nightmares.


	7. Helping Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kind of iffy about this chapter. Let me know where you guys want the story to go! I take suggestions! As always thank you for reading, feel free to comment.

The next month or so was spent getting your strength back up and binge watching whatever shitty netflix show Dean put on for you. Since Castiel’s visit he hadn’t been back, and neither Sam nor Dean offered anything other than a shrug or a grunt when you asked where he was. When you wondered aloud for about the billionth time where he was Dean groaned and paused the episode of Game of Thrones you were watching. 

“Look he’s a busy dude, Y/N.” he said, exasperated. “Heavenly battles and such, it’s not that he doesn’t want to see you, it’s just he’s—“ 

“Busy, yeah.” you huffed and Dean just sighed and pressed play. After a moment you spoke again. “I think I scared him off.” 

Dean paused it again and sat up this time, turning to look at you. “Why do you say that?” 

“When I was all loopy and incoherent I started ranting at him. I may or may not have told him some of my pathetic life story and…I think it scared him. I think he regrets helping me.” you whispered the last bit and Dean frowned at you. 

“He doesn’t regret helping you, Y/N.” he said knowingly. “None of us do. I know you think you’re a burden—“ 

“I don’t—“ you tried to cut him off but he held up his hand. 

“Take it from the king of self-loathing and trying to make things right; you can’t. Just take the help offered you and be prepared to pay it forward when the opportunity presents itself.” 

You huffed, unwillingly to accept what he was saying. “But I can’t accept what you guys are offering me, not when I have nothing to offer you in return.” 

*******EDIT******* 

“Now we’ve talked about that, Y/N.” Dean scolded. “We don’t want anything from you. But if you’re really that desperate to get out of the house…” 

“Yeah?” you asked, excitedly. 

Dean smiled at your excitement. "Well we're almost out of groceries, and I'm gonna go crazy if I have to stay stuck here any longer. How bout you come on a supply run with me?" 

Your smile fell a bit. "That's it? You want me to get groceries with you?" 

Dean rolled his eyes. "You're still on the mend, kiddo. Drug addiction takes a while to kick, you aren't gonna be fighting fit for a while. Might as well start you on something small." 

"Okay, okay I get it. Don't want Y/N falling off the wagon." you said but Dean just patted your shoulder. 

"C'mon! I'll get my keys." 

The drive to the store wasn't a long one but Dean, seeing how your face lit up the moment you pulled out of the Bunker, took the back roads, allowing you to roll down your window and breath in the fresh Kansas air. At a stoplight he reached behind him and pulled out a box, which you realized when he handed it to you, was full of old cassette tapes. 

"Jesus how old are you?" You teased and he just rolled his eyes. "Metallica, Motorhead...not into Justin Beiber huh?" 

"Just shut your trap and pick a tape, princess." he said and you smiled. "Those are some quality bands in there. And I think there's a few of those guys you could relate to." 

"Yeah how do you figure?" you asked, still rooting through the box, settling on a Led Zeppelin tape and popping it in. 

"Well most of those guys struggled with drug addiction just like you." Dean said it so nonchalantly, but you heard his nervous undertone, like he knew this was a touchy subject for you and was treading lightly. You admired him for caring so much, and the fact that there wasn't a hint of judgement in his voice. 

"Like who?" you asked, settling back in the seat. 

"Well take George Harrison," he said. "All of the Beatles were arrested for possession at some point or another but good old George actually managed an arrest of his wedding day." 

"Classy," you said and Dean nodded. 

"Izzy Stradlin from Guns N’ Roses once swallowed his entire drug stash in order to enter Japan on tour and ended up in a 96-hour coma." Dean continued. "Ozzy Osbourne struggled with addiction, hell it led to him getting kicked out of Black Sabbath for Christ's sake! Steven Tyler used cocaine. John Bonham may have stuck to alcohol but still." 

You frowned at Dean. "Why are you telling me all this?" you wondered and he sighed. 

"I just want you to know you aren't alone. And that your addiction doesn't define you. I mean look at these guys! They were all addicted to something or other and while we see that as part of their story it's not the only thing they're known for. And it doesn't stop me loving their music either, and you're addiction doesn't stop Sam or I from wanting to be around you. We don't see you as any less of a person because you've struggled, hell we've all struggled with stuff in our lives. Yours just happens to be a bit more severe." 

"A lot more severe." you mumbled and Dean smiled at you. 

"But look at you, Y/N!" he said proudly. "You've pushed through the worst of it, and you came out on the other side! You're strong as hell." 

You smiled at him shyly. "Thanks, Dean." you said and he smiled back. 

The drive back from the store was spent singing along to Dean's favorite songs, and laughing when he got too into it. It meant a lot to you that he'd taken the time to talk to you about your addiction and that you hadn't come out the other end feeling judged or belittled. When he pulled into the Bunker's garage you helped him unload the groceries. When you were done Dean told you to settle in and pick a movie to watch--he hadn't let you do much else in the last month or so--while he made dinner. But as you passed the library you saw Sam hunched over a book, snoring loudly, and you couldn't resist. 

You made your way towards the sleeping figure of Sam and picked up a book, holding it high over your head and letting it drop to the table, creating a loud bang, which woke Sam up instantly. You laughed at his tousled hair and wide eyes and he just huffed. 

"Not nice, Y/N." he yawned but smiled at you. 

"Never said I was nice." you said, plopping down next to him as he rubbed his eyes and ran a hand through his hair, something smoothing it back into place with one motion. "What were you reading?" 

"Just reading some of the Men of Letter's journal entries on some rare creatures they discovered." he said and you smiled. 

"Sound interesting." you said and fiddled with a pen on the table before steeling your courage and asking him a question you'd been meaning to ask him for a while now. "Hey, Sam?" you asked hesitantly but he looked up at you kindly and you took a deep breath. "I wanted to ask you about something kind of personal..." 

Sam sighed and nodded. "It's about what I said about the demon blood right?" He said knowingly and you nodded. "Well to make a long story short I got into a kind of...unhealthy relationship a few years back with a demon named Ruby." 

"You dated a demon?" you wondered and he nodded solemnly. 

"Not one of my finer moments I'll admit. When I was a kid I had these visions, I won't go into details about why but all you need to know is that I was chosen for something, something not good, and Ruby knew that. Anyway she got it into my head that I could use my abilities for good, to kill demons. And for a while it worked, the more I drank the stronger I became, hell I was able to kill demons with just a thought, even take on the Devil when it came right down to it." He paused but you nodded at him to keep going, knowing that was a story for another time. "During that time it was great, I thought that I was doing the right thing, helping the world...but it was too late when I realized it was an addiction, that she was my dealer and nothing else. It took a lot of hard work, and a lot of help from those closest to me, but eventually I was able to see that she wasn't what I thought she was, and that all she'd done was get me addicted to something not good for me." 

"How'd you kick it?" you asked, intrigued. 

"Dean locked me in a room to detox." he said and scratched at his arm absentmindedly. "Believe me when I say I understand what you went through with your rehab, and I'm sorry you had to go through it." 

"And Ruby?" you asked, almost sure you knew the answer. "What happened to her?" 

"I killed her." he said simply and you didn't press it when he kept talking. "In the end I think that was the best thing I could've done, cut off my addiction at the source but truthfully I don't know what I would have done if I hadn't had Dean in my corner." 

You smiled, remembering your conversation with Dean in the car. "Yeah. Dean's a really good person huh?" 

Sam looked at you seriously. "I'm proud of you, Y/N." he said quietly. "I know what it takes to kick an addiction and I know it wasn't easy for you. But you did it and I'm so, so proud." 

You smiled at him and took his hand, squeezing lightly. "Thank you, Sam." you said. 

"Soups on!" Dean's voice came from the kitchen and you and Sam pushed your chairs back, joining Dean in the kitchen for his famous burgers. 

It was about a month and half later when Dean came to you in your room, looking awkward. You told him to spit it out and he rubbed the back of his neck. 

“Well Sammy may have found a hunt, just a run of the mill demon possession, shouldn't take us more than a few days to get it all sorted but I feel kind of bad leaving you all alone here." 

"So bring me with you." you said like it was the most obvious thing in the world but Dean just rolled his eyes. 

"I don't want you in the middle of a hunt Y/N." He said. 

"I won't be in the middle! I'll stay back at the hotel, you and Sam can do all the heavy lifting and I'll stay back to hold down the fort." 

"Or you stay back at the bunker and we have Cas keep an eye on you." 

You rolled your eyes and refrained from stomping your foot like a toddler. "I don't need a fucking babysitter, Dean! I've been stuck in this bunker for months, I think I've detoxed enough and I'm going stir crazy being cooped up in here. I feel a lot better than I did 

Dean sighed and stared at you for a solid minute and half before nodding hesitantly. 

"Alright fine you can come, BUT--" he said quickly, seeing your face lighten. "But, you need to stay back at the hotel, you're not coming on the actual hunt, got it?" ****EDIT**** 

You sat up quickly, ready to jump at the opportunity to help, to pay back some of their kindness. “Yes! Yeah I’d love that! Just tell me what to do and I’m there.” 

Dean laughed. “Okay, okay kiddo just calm down! We’ll just need you back at the motel to help with research and keep the car running so to speak. You wouldn’t actually be hunting, got it?” 

“Got it.” you slapped his thigh and leapt up, barely noticing the left over ache in your bones from how sick you’d been. “Let’s go, boss! We’ve got some demons to hunt!” and you set off to find Sam and get ready for your first ever, sort of, hunt. 

Dean drove like a maniac, but you liked it. And he got you to where the hunt would take place—somewhere called Plano, Texas—in record time. While he and Sam got set up in the motel room you stood outside and soaked up the Texas air, feeling a sense of belonging that you’d never felt before. 

For some reason, these two men had not only helped you, but offered to let you stay with them. They had helped you through withdrawal, getting away from the cops, and now were letting you help them on a hunt. And as much as the whole monster world scared you, Sam assured you that you’d just be in the motel room, safe and sound with a devil’s trap over the door. You smiled at the thought that these two men actually cared enough to keep you safe and turned back towards the motel room, stopping when you heard your name spoken through the open window. 

“Y/N shouldn’t have come, Dean.” Sam was saying and you crouched low, listening. “It’s dangerous and she could get hurt.” 

“It’s just a run of the mill demon thing, Sammy. And she’ll be in the motel room the whole time, she’ll be perfectly safe. Besides I think it’s good for her to get out of the bunker for a while, she’s been cooped up in there for long enough.” 

“That’s what I’m worried about, Dean!” Sam contradicted. “She’s been off drugs while she was at the bunker but what happens when she’s not there anymore? When she doesn’t have distractions and one of us to keep an eye on her? Who’s to say she won’t go running straight back to the drugs?” 

You frowned. Is that what Sam really thought of you? That you were so weak you would go running at the first sign of your addiction? Had he not seen how hard you worked to overcome the withdrawal and how serious you were about wanting to help? That hurt. 

“Look maybe she isn’t as weak as you think she is.” Dean’s defense made you perk up a bit but his next words struck deep. “Or…maybe you’re right and she is just some addict we picked up off the street. But she wanted to help so who am I to tell her no?” 

Some addict they’d picked up off the street? Is that all you were to them? How could you be so stupid? Here you were thinking they’d actually cared for you, and no you truly were just another burden, someone to help out and as soon as you stopped being useful they’d throw you out again, just like your parents. With that thought reeling through your mind you pushed yourself up, huddled in your coat and took of running through the parking lot, your only goal to get as far away from the Winchesters as possible. 

You ended up halfway across town in a little family park, empty now that it was so late. You slid underneath the play structure and huddled in your coat, trying to ignore the angry tears flowing down your cheeks. It wasn’t until someone cleared their throat that you sniffed and sighed, wiping the tears from your cheeks. 

“Alright, alright I’ll find somewhere else to sleep.” you groaned and shoved out from underneath the structure, where you were met with an attractive woman in a black dress and stilettos, staring at you as though she’d won the lottery. 

“Well, well, well looksie what he we have here.” she crooned and you frowned. “Looks like the Winchester’s dog got off her leash.” 

“Who are you?” you asked hesitantly but she just smiled, her eyes flashing black, and you took a step back. “What are you?” 

“And here I thought the Winchester’s had brains. It is me you’re looking for right?” she laughed and something clicked in your mind. 

“You’re a demon.” you hissed and she pointed one long red nail at you. 

“And bingo gets a bone.” she took a few steps towards you, and though you took a step back she reached out her hand and you suddenly couldn’t move a muscle. “But truth be told I’m getting tired of this meat suit, thought I’d try something different on for size. Shall we?” with that she placed a hand at the back of your neck, forcing your head back a bit and she opened her mouth wide, black smoke erupting from it and shoving itself down your throat. 

You felt like you were drowning. The smoke forced itself down your throat and took over your entire body. In one single instant you weren’t in control anymore. You could hear and see everything but when you told your body to run, it wouldn’t move. And when you heard your own voice laugh and your hands raise in front of you, you knew what had happened. You’d been possessed. 

“A bit scrawny, a bit dirty. But you’ll have to do.” you heard your voice say, and though you fought the demon, she had complete control over you, she had trapped you in a tiny box inside your mind and no matter how loud you screamed you couldn’t get out. “Oh don’t worry sweetheart I’m not going to kill you.” the demon said in your voice.


	8. Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not sure how I feel about this chapter. Think I finally figured out where I'm going with this story though. Still taking suggestions if you've got them!

The demon didn’t go back to the hotel right away like you’d thought. No first she rooted through your memories, your thoughts, and upon seeing the withdrawal you’d gone through she laughed at you. 

“A drug addict huh? Figures. And look at that,” she cooed, reading your feelings. “You miss it. The high it gave you, the rush. The feeling like you were on top of the world. Can’t say I blame you, though. I get the same rush from taking on a new vessel. It’s exhilarating isn’t it? 

You fought back, telling her that you were done, that wasn’t who you were anymore but she just laughed and rolled up your sleeve, running a finger down the track marks on your arm. 

“These will always be a reminder though huh? A reminder of how weak you are, how pathetic. I can make you strong Y/N, I bet together we can get exactly what we want.” 

You asked her what that was. 

“Drugs, revenge on those dipshit Winchesters, even your parents if you want..oh wow...mom and dad! Not a happy family there huh? But I can change all of that, Y/N. You’d be surprised what being possessed by a demon can get you.” 

You mulled her words over in your head, knowing she could hear everything you were thinking. It was true you’d missed the drugs, though the thought of going through withdrawal again kept you from going near them. But you missed the way it made you feel, the control it gave you, the high. And you’d never admit it but…revenge did sound appealing, especially on your parents. You were angry at the Winchesters but angry enough for revenge? For demon-led revenge? That was a bit drastic. You told her no but she just shrugged. 

“Fine, I don’t need your permission after all. Just thought I’d give you a chance to agree to it before I fucked them over.” 

You panicked then as her plan to attack the Winchesters filled your mind. You asked her what her plan was and she just scoffed. 

“Oh please, not all of us have some grand master plan. Some of us just like to fuck with the Winchesters.” she smiled and picked the location of the hotel out of your thoughts. “And having to watch while they’re little pet kills them…that’s almost too good to be true. 

You screamed at her, begged her to stop but she wouldn’t listen, just kept walking until she was at the hotel. 

“Watch this sweetie pie.” she smirked and kicked the door down. The Winchesters jumped up from their positions and pulled their guns, but upon seeing who it was they looked shocked. 

“Y/N?” Dean asked skeptically and the demon smirked and flashed her eyes black. “Not Y/N.” he aimed his gun back at you but Sam pushed his arm down. 

“It’s still Y/N’s body!” Sam scolded him and the demon laughed. 

“Yes it’s precious little Y/N’s body isn’t it?” it was odd to hear her words in your voice. “And we wouldn’t want to hurt her would we? So put the guns down boys this’ll go a lot easier for you if you do.” 

“What are you—“ Dean’s sentence was cut off as the demon raised her arm and flung both him and Sam into opposite walls, pinning them there. She laughed. 

“I was planning on doing this quickly you know,” she monologued. “Slitting your throats and being on my way, but the way Y/N is screaming not to hurt you…well it makes me want to draw this out. Take my time. More fun for everyone involved if you ask me.” 

“You can fight this Y/N.” Sam called at you, his voice strained from the pain he must be in. 

“Fight me?” the demon threw her head back and laughed. “She can barely fight herself! She’s been itching to go back to the drugs ever since your half-assed attempt at an intervention. And look at this, now she gets what she wants. In fact I think after I’ll kill you I’ll give her just that. And the best part? She wants it. So badly. She wants revenge on you two too you know. Heard what you said about how weak she is, how fragile. How you think she’ll run right back to her old ways if you let her out of your sight. And you’re right. She is weak. Fragile. Broken. She couldn’t even fight me if she wanted to, which she doesn’t. Our little Y/N is addicted to it, to the high. No matter where she gets it. That’s the real reason she wanted to hunt, Dean. So she could feel the high again, the power. I bet you two knew that though didn’t you?” she smirked. 

“Shut up.” Dean hissed and the demon pouted at him. 

“What’s wrong Deano, don’t want to play?” She raised her hand again and Dean cried out in pain. You screamed at her to stop but she just laughed. However her focus on Dean allowed Sam to start speaking an exorcism and she flinched. That slip in control gave Dean the opportunity finish the exorcism and the next thing you knew you were choking out black smoke and collapsing on the ground, gasping for breath. Dean and Sam fell from their places on the walls and rushed to you. Dean splashed you with Holy water just to be sure but Sam wrapped you in his arms comfortingly. 

“You okay?” Dean asked and you nodded, though you weren’t totally sure. 

“She didn’t hurt me.” you assured them. 

They wrapped you in a blanket and checked you over for injuries though you assured them you were fine. Dean opted to go out and get all of you some food while you and Sam stayed back at the motel. You curled up on the bed and Sam came and sat next to you. 

“Hey kiddo, how you holdin’ up?” he asked kindly and you shrugged, huddling further into the blanket. 

“It’s just a lot to take in.” you admitted and Sam nodded knowingly, his puppy dog eyes pouring into yours. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little freaked out by it all.” 

“Well you did get possessed today.” Sam reminded you and you shuddered. 

“I can still taste the sulphur.” you whispered and Sam hesitated a moment before putting his arm around you lightly. 

“I’m so sorry, Y/N.” he said and you frowned at him. 

“What for?” 

“For not protecting you. For what I said earlier. I didn’t mean that you were weak or pathetic I just…wanted to protect you. But turns out me trying to protect you got you possessed by a demon.” 

“But I am, Sam.” you couldn’t look at him, and felt tears burning behind your eyes. “Everything the demon said was true. I’m weak and pathetic and…” you took a deep breath. “I do miss the drugs. The high it gave me was like nothing I’ve ever experienced. It made me feel like I had some ounce of control in my shitty life. I’m not strong like you and Dean, and I’m afraid I’ll go right back to it if the opportunity presents itself.” 

“Well then we won’t let it present itself.” Sam said but you shook your head. “Y/N stop acting like you’re the only one who knows how this ends. You’ve gotta accept the help being offered you sometimes.” 

“You don’t know me, Sam.” you told him. “I’ve slept with married men, had people pay for sex with me, done drugs you’ve probably never heard of. I don’t deserve to wipe the dirt off your shoes let alone sit here and have a conversation with you.” you paused. “I wish I’d never met you guys.” 

Sam’s eyes looked heartbroken. “You don’t mean that.” 

“Yes I do. It would’ve saved you guys a lot of pain and hassle and I would be right where I belong; dead in some ditch from a drug overdose.” 

Sam hugged you tighter to his side. “Is that really what you think you deserve, Y/N?” 

You nodded, tears flowing freely. 

“You know there was time when I thought I didn’t deserve to live anymore. When I thought I was so broken that I thought I truly deserved to die. That my death would…purify the world.” Sam let out a little, depressed laugh. “There were these, uh, these trials I had to do, and if I completed them we could close the gates of Hell. But here’s the catch; if I complete the trials, I die. I told Dean I honestly didn’t care if I died, that for the greater good I needed to. That I’d let him down too many times. But he made me see that nothing mattered except family, except him and me and what he had together. And I didn’t go through with it, the trials. Y/N that’s just like you now. I know you feel broken and alone and like you’ve let everyone down but trust me…we don’t see it like that. You’re family to us, Y/N and we would do anything for you. We’re not gonna let something like your past stop us from seeing who you are now. And you shouldn’t either.” 

You were crying buckets now. Listening to Sam’s speech, to what he’d been through, made you realize that this giant man, this wonderful moose, actually cared for you. That him sharing this piece of you, calling you family meant he truly, seriously wanted you around, wanted you just for you. He didn’t care about your past or what you’d done, he just wanted you around now, flaws and all. 

“Sam I…I’m so sorry.” you hugged him around the waist and he placed his chin on your head. 

“We’re not broken people, Y/N.” he said and you noticed how he included himself. “We’ve just been dealt a shit hand. But we’ll get through it.” 

“Together.” you told him and he smiled at you, kissing your forehead in a brotherly way. 

“Together.” He agreed and you smiled, feeling like maybe things weren’t so bad after all.


	9. Truth or Dare

“Really, no tattoos?” Sam demanded and you shrugged. 

“Honestly. Just never wanted one.” you told them, taking a swig of your beer. “Do you two have any?” 

The boys pulled down their shirts over their chests, showing you their tattoos; a star inside of what looked like a sun. You stared, mesmerized. 

“Anti-possession.” Dean explained. “Realistically we should get you one too. Don’t freak out I didn’t mean right now!” he backtracked, seeing the look of shock on your face. 

It had been a normal few weeks, well what you’d come to know as normal. The boys hadn’t had a case in weeks so the three of you had been milling around Lebanon, Kansas where the bunker was located. Currently you were playing a game of truth or dare, with a twist. If you didn’t want to answer the truth, or you lied, or if you refused the dare, you had to take a shot. Seemed simple enough, until the questions got harder and the dares got harder, what with the increase of alcohol in your systems. 

“Okay, Deano your turn.” you said and Dean sighed. “Truth or dare?” 

Dean mulled it over a moment before he sighed and took a swig of his own beer. 

“Truth.” he decided and you smiled. 

“Ever kissed a dude?” you asked and Sam spat out some of his drink. 

Dean stared at you for a moment before he groaned and took a shot, you just smiled and laughed. 

“I’ll take that as a yes, you owe me five bucks Sam.” Sam laughed but Dean just threw his plastic shot glass at you. 

“Oh shut up princess it’s your turn!” he said. 

“Bring it on.” you told him but you didn’t like the look on his face. “I pick truth.” you figured that was safest, so far nothing the boys had asked had been too invasive and truthfully you didn’t have that many secrets you were afraid to share, they’d already seen you at your worst. 

“Why did your dad kick you out?” Dean said quietly and you took a big gulp of your beer before shrugging, trying to put off an air of nonchalance. 

“Slept with the neighbor’s husband,” you said, not looking at them. “My dad didn’t want a whore in the house so he kicked me out.” you shrugged and ate a chip out of the bowl in front of you. 

“You were seventeen.” Sam said but you just shook your head. “What really happened, Y/N?” 

You stood up and started gathering up empty beer bottles before heading into the kitchen but they followed you. 

“Y/N c’mon just tell us.” Sam said and you huffed and dropped the bottles in the recycling bin. 

“I’m telling the truth!” you said angrily. “I was young and the neighbor’s husband was attractive, I was innocent and he was charming. It’s a cliche but it’s the truth.” 

“I call bullshit.” Dean said but you just rolled your eyes, knowing they weren’t going to give up. 

“I really did sleep with him,” you said but then looked down at your feet and shrugged. “Maybe I didn't want it but it happened.” 

It took a second for what you were saying to register but when it did the boys exploded. 

“What?!” Sam yelled. 

“He raped you?” Dean asked, quieter but equally as angry. 

“Shit happens.” you said quietly but the boys weren’t letting you get out of this. 

“No Y/N shit like that should not happen. Especially to a teenager! And you never told your parents?” 

“My dad was an abusive asshole and my mom didn’t pay attention to much other than her daytime television and her flask. Telling them would’ve just gotten me kicked out sooner. The first time it happened I was fifteen. My parents invited him and his wife over for a dinner party and he came up to my room. He—he put his hand over my mouth and pinned me down. He said no one would believe me if I told them, that he was a respected member of the town and I was just a little girl.” 

“Jesus christ.” Dean hissed, running his hands over his face. 

“It happened a few times after that, when my parents had them over for dinner he’d come up and…” you took a deep breath. “When my dad found out he called me a dirty little whore. He was always drunk anyway so he didn’t believe me when I told him I didn’t want it. My mom didn’t stand up for me either, so my dad did the only thing that made any sense to him; he kicked me out. Told me not to come back.” 

“You were seventeen, how could he just—“ 

“Demons are nothing compared to the monsters I grew up with.” you said solemnly and the boys just stared at you. 

“You ever thought about going back?” Sam asked quietly. “Getting closure of some sort? Maybe convicting the guy?” 

“It’s been years, Sam.” you said. “No one would convict him, not now. Especially after I’ve been homeless for this long. But yeah I have thought about going back, a lot of times. I went back once when I was nineteen and my mom let me sleep over for the night, but when my dad got home he beat me to a pulp and kicked me out again.” 

“We could go with you this time, stop him from hurting you. It might help you, to get some closure.” 

You sat there for a moment and took a deep breath. Maybe going back was just what you needed. You’d been wandering for so long that you didn’t really know who you were anymore. But being at the bunker with the Winchesters had helped you discover yourself again. You’d reopened doors you thought had been closed for years. You'd discovered your love for books again, reading anything and everything Sam put in front of you. Your cooking skills had improved immensely, and Sam had even taught you some yoga for when the nightmares got bad and you needed something to calm you down. You finally felt like a whole person again, and it was all thanks to the Winchesters. But there was still something holding you back, something that kept you guarded and on alert at all times, that kept you from sleeping, or had you bolting up in the middle of the night, sweating and scared. Perhaps getting closure would end all that. After all you’d never really talked to your parents about why they kicked you out, it just sort of happened in a ball of rage. So maybe going back would be good. You could see Colten too, tell him what had happened to you, that you were—for the most part—alright, ask how Syliva was. 

“Okay,” you sighed. “Let’s go face the last of my demons.”


	10. Finished

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you to everyone who has stuck with me for this long! I'm so incredibly sorry that this took so long to finish, life just got in the way. This is the final installment of this series. Thank you for reading, and for leaving feedback. I truly appreciate it!!

You wanted to see Colt before you went to face your parents. He’d been so kind to you when no one else would even look at you, and you owed him an explanation at least. As you and Sam and Dean piled into the impala you couldn’t help the nerves wracking through your body, but you took comfort in the fact that you weren’t doing this alone. Castiel wanted to come with you, but when he got word of some rogue angels up north you assured him that you could handle it, though he told you to pray to him if you needed anything, leaving you with a tight hug. When you got to the bar where Colt worked you looked around for him, finding him behind the bar.

“Colt!” you shouted over the din and he looked up from a patron and his face lit up at the sight of you. He excused himself from the bar and raced over to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and hugging you tightly.

“I thought you were dead.” he said quietly and you hugged him back. “I was so scared, I didn’t know what happened to you. I went to homeless shelters all over town but no one knew where you were.”

“I’m okay.” you told him, pulling back and smiling at him. “I’m more than okay. I wasn’t for a while but I am now.”

“You look okay,” he said, smiling. “You look…healthy.”

“Thank you.” you hugged him again and then pulled back.

“What happened to you, Y/N?” he asked, his eyes finding the Winchesters standing behind you. “Who’s this?”

“This is Sam and Dean.” you explained. “They kind of saved my life. I can explain it all over a beer if you want.”

Colt nodded. “Yeah that would be great! Jason!” he called to another bartender. “Take over for me for a bit.”

He sat with the three of you in the back of the bar in a booth, the two of you swapping stories. He told you that Sylvia had had the baby, a little girl they named Katherine. Both mother and baby were healthy and happy and you could tell Colt was happy too, for which you were thankful. You told him what had happened—minus the demons and hunting parts—and when you spoke of Castiel saving you from your drug-induced suicide attempt and the boys helping you go through withdrawal he broke down crying.

“Colt!” you said, putting a hand on his arm. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m so sorry, Y/N.” he told you. “For not helping you like I should have, for not taking care of you. I was just too damn scared of my own weakness, of the feelings I’d had for you when we first met. I didn’t want to compromise my marriage. I was selfish.”

“Colt, Colt!” you said his name over again to get him to stop talking. “Stop it. You have nothing to blame yourself for. You did take care of me, you helped me when no one else would, you listened to me and didn’t push me away, even after you knew the worst. You were my only friend, and for that I’m thankful.”

“I owe you two so much thanks,” Colt said, looking to the boys. “You did what I couldn’t, you got her out, made her get better.”

Dean huffed a laugh. “No one makes Y/N do anything,” he said confidently. “She got out all on her own, we just helped is all.”

“You’re really okay?” Colt asked and you smiled confidently.

“Yeah. I really am.”

Colt smiled at you again and squeezed your hand. “This round is on me guys.” He said and the boys held up their beers in thanks. “I gotta get back to work, but promise me you’ll stay in touch, kay?”

You promised him you would and with one last hug and a kiss on the forehead he went back to work and you settled in to talk with the boys. You talked about music, movies the boys had seen lately, past hookups—you learned about Cas and a girl named Chastity which had you snorting beer out of your nose—some of Dean and Sam’s exes, though that conversation ended quickly. And you talked about nothing in particular, just enjoyed being around one another. You’d never had this before, a community, a family. Sure you’d had a family but it was never like this. Neither were the homeless shelters or random folks who would take you in for a few days at a time, or the sketchy motels and drug dens you’d slept your way into. This was real, this was…pure. And you liked that. The warm feeling in your belly however didn’t last when Dean put down his beer bottle and looked at you seriously.

“Okay, kid we saw your bartender friend. Now let’s to the real reason we came out here. You wanted to face your demons right? Let’s get facing.”

“Your parents right?” Sam said and you nodded nervously. Sam noticed your nerves and took your hand kindly.

“We’ll be right with you the whole time,” he said and you smiled at him.

A quick web search revealed that your parents still lived in the same house that you’d grown up in, so that’s where you headed. You couldn’t stop bouncing in your seat or gnawing on your bottom lip worriedly. As you pulled into the gated neighborhood Dean gaped.

“You grew up here?” he asked, gazing at the manicured lawns, large houses and countless Mercedes’ in the driveways. “This is a pretty swanky neighborhood.”

“Not all that glitters is gold, Dean.” you said solemnly and Dean nodded.

“Y/N if this neighborhood is so high end how did no one notice what was going on in your house?  I mean in places like this the neighbors are usually all up in each other’s business. You’re telling me no one figured out what was happening?”

You laughed humorlessly. “I think you’re severely overestimating the upper-middle class here, Sam. Yes, they swallow up gossip like it’s air but none of them really care enough about anyone else to actually do something about what they hear. They’re all too caught up in their own shitty existences to care about anyone else’s. Stop here.” you told Dean and he pulled over in front of your parent’s house.

“Ready, kid?” Dean asked and you shrugged, getting out of the car and walking towards the front door, feeling like you were in a dream. Or maybe a nightmare. The stress was making you anxious and you felt the need for drugs pinging in the back of your head. You tried to push that feeling down and focused on Sam and Dean behind you. You knocked on the door twice. Sam put his hand on your shoulder to stop you from bouncing in nervousness.

"Just relax, it’s gonna be fine.”

“They’re not answering, let’s just go.” you said quickly, ready to turn around and go home. But Sam turned you around to face the door again.

“Nuh uh kiddo we’re doing this. You’ll be fine.”

“Can I help you?” your mother answered the door just as you were about to rush past Sam back to the car and you froze as she took you in, looking you up and down a few times.

“Y—Y/N…” she seemed to be having trouble believing you were really there. “What are you doing here?”

“I um…I just wanted to uh, talk to you?” you scratched at the back of your neck in awkwardness.

“Here? Now?” she was looking around behind the three of you, like she was worried the neighbors would know who you were and why you were there.

“Yeah, now.” you answered and she looked from you to the two men standing behind you.

“Who are your…friends?” she asked awkwardly and you refrained from rolling your eyes at her suspicious tone.

“I’m Dean Winchester, this is my brother Sam.” Dean answered for you. “May we come in?”

Your mother looked him up and down and seemed to decide that inviting you all in was preferable to having it out on the front porch where all the neighbors could see. So she took a step back and shuffled the three of you inside quickly, shutting the door hurriedly.

“Um, have a seat.” she said awkwardly, motioning to the family room. “I’ll get some drinks.” she hurried off to the kitchen and the three of you sat on the couch in the family room.

You looked around and noticed that nothing had changed. The furniture was the same, the pictures on the wall, even the old grand piano tucked in the corner was still there. The only difference was the complete lack of _you_ anywhere. When you lived here, yes it was hellish and abusive but your parents did what they could to convince people that was not the case. So they did what good parents were supposed to do, they hung up your school pictures, artwork you’d made, trophies from various sports and academic accomplishments, not that there were many. But now there were only pictures of the two of them on trips, out with friends, but not one reminder that you’d ever lived here. You idly wondered how long it took to erase you from their lives. Sam noticed your scan of the room and squeezed your knee.

“You okay?” he asked quietly and you shrugged.

“Too late to back out now,” you said and he raised the left side of his mouth in an awkward smile.

“You’re doing great, kiddo.” Dean chimed in and you were going to answer but your mother bustled in, carrying three glasses of lemonade on a tray and setting it on the coffee table in front of you. Dean and Sam took theirs with thanks but you declined. She didn’t seem to know what do with herself so after a few moments of standing there awkwardly, she sat down in the recliner across from the three of you, crossing and uncrossing her ankles skittishly.

“You didn’t change much,” you commented and she nodded, eyes darting around the room.

“Yes, well it’s still our house isn’t it? No reason to change anything just because…” her eyes skipped to you and she turned red.

“Just because you kicked your daughter out.” you finished for her and she tutted a bit, waving her hand as if to wave your comment away. “Exactly how long did it take after I was gone before you got rid of all my pictures? I bet my room was packed up the minute I was out of sight wasn’t it?” you could feel yourself getting angry but didn’t care, she deserved it.

“Now that isn’t fair.” she scolded and you huffed.

“You want to talk about fair?” you demanded and she just shook her head, waving her hand again. “How was anything that went on in this house _fair_ at all? You never treated me fairly! You couldn’t wait to get rid of me, hell I bet you had a story prepared long before you sent me packing. What was the story anyway?” you asked and her hands twitched nervously, and you knew she was itching for her flask.

“We couldn’t tell people that we…did what we did.” your mother said, her eyes darting around the room, looking anywhere but at you. “We told them you ran away with some boy, left a letter and everything. It was easier than telling people what you’d _really_ done.”

“What _I’d_ done?” you hissed, feeling yourself getting angrier by the moment. “What _really_ happened was the neighbor raping your daughter and you being too stupid to realize it!”

“You tempted him!” she kept her voice down but spat the words at you. “We had a reputation to uphold, we couldn’t very well have that tainted by your…indiscretions. Your father was just doing what he thought was right.”

“He kicked me out at seventeen!” you screamed. “I was scared and alone and abused and the two people who were supposed to take care of me—to love me—threw me under the bus!” you were close to crying now, hot angry tears burning behind your eyes. Sam put a large hand on your knee and you took a deep breath, his touch grounding you. “You’re my mother! You’re supposed to love me no matter what, to _believe_ me and you just looked the other way. And I’m not just talking about when he kicked me out, I’m talking about all the times Dad got angry and hit me, or threw plates at me, or the time he broke my arm. Not once did you help me! No you just unscrewed your goddamn flask and pretended like it wasn’t happening!”

“Well what was I supposed to do?” she yelled, throwing her hands up in the air. “You always made him angry, disobeyed and disrespected him! It was just punishment!”

You felt Dean tense beside you and you knew he was ready to jump in but you didn’t want him to, this was your fight and you weren’t going to let him fight it for you. So you put your hand on his shoulder and nodded at him slightly and he leaned back, but he was still glaring daggers at your mother. You were going to let her have it when you all heard the front door open and your mother sat up ramrod straight, her mouth gaping like a fish. You heard your father’s voice call from the front hall and your heart leapt into your throat in fear, and you curled in on yourself. Sam noticed and gripped your shoulder comfortingly. There were heavy footsteps and then your father was standing in the doorway, looking as menacing as ever. His eyes found the two men first, narrowing and then they finally landed on you. You could smell the alcohol and cigarettes washing off of him.          

“What the fuck are you doing here?” he slurred at you.

“She was just leaving.” your mother said quickly but Dean stepped in, towering over her.

“No one is going anywhere until Y/N says so.” he said firmly and your mother shrank under his gaze, but your father puffed up his chest.

“And who are you? Her new pimp?” he laughed, coughing halfway through but speaking again when he recovered. “That’s all you were, a good-for-nothing whore.”

You found yourself shrinking against his words, slipping back into the scared little girl you were when you lived with them. But Sam squeezed your hand and you steeled yourself.

“And you’re a pathetic, low-life, abusive drunk.” you said strongly and his glassy eyes narrowed and he snarled at you.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” he demanded. “Coming into my house, talking to me like that! You will treat me with respect little girl—“

“Fuck you.” you spat and he took a step towards you but Dean stepped in front of you, ready to protect you, and that small motion brought tears to your eyes. No one had ever defended you against your father before, and it felt good. “You never deserved my respect, not when I was a kid and especially not now.”

Your father just laughed. “Oh so you think you’re better than me? Tell me, little girl, where have you been all these years?” you didn’t answer right away and he smirked. “Let me guess…homeless, right? Probably whoring yourself out for food or drugs, until you found these two and somehow they convinced you that what happened wasn’t your fault, that you were the victim? Well let me tell you something sweetheart, you deserved everything that happened to you, every single damn thing. You’re just a worthless, good for nothing druggie, whore. Always have been, always will be.” his words brought back echoes of the things he used to yell at you when you were younger, and they still stung, after all these years.

“You’re wrong.” you said timidly and your father laughed, putting his hand to his ear and turning it towards you.

“What was that little slut?” he taunted.

“I said you’re wrong.” you said, louder this time. You remembered Colt’s kind words, Dean’s reassurance that he’d be right here if you needed him and squeezed Sam’s hand again. “About all of it. I didn’t deserve what happened to me, but you’ll deserve what happens to you. Because I’ve seen awful, _horrible_ things out there. Real life monsters and you know what? You fit right in with the lot of them. You drove me to the bottom, sure, but you can’t break me anymore. I’ve found family,” you smiled kindly at Sam and Dean. “Despite all that’s happened to me, all that I’ve been through—that you put me through—I came out the other side, stronger for it. I could kill you if I wanted, and you know what? I wouldn’t lose sleep over it. Not one minute.”

Your father looked at you for a moment before he burst out laughing and Sam stood up, but you stuck your hand out to stop him.

“Laugh all you want, but you don’t control me anymore. I won’t let you. I’ve spent far too long feeling like I’m broken because of what’s happened to me, but I’m not what’s broken. You are.”

“Oh _I’m_ broken?” your father taunted. He looked at Sam and Dean and smiled. “You boys know what she did don’t you?” he said, smiling. “She told you the whole story?”

“Stop it.” You spat but he shot you a smirk and kept talking.

“I bet she told you that she was taken advantage of, that it wasn’t her fault, that she was the _victim_.” Your father continued and you felt your heart speed up, knowing what he was going to say next. “And I bet she left out the part where she _killed_ her baby.”

You felt dizzy, and you could feel two sets of eyes snap to you as the boys realized what he was saying.

“You were pregnant…” Sam said quietly.

“Jesus,” Dean breathed, running a hand over his face.

Your father laughed and you flinched. “That’s right, it’s bad enough that she was fucking the neighbor, but the little whore couldn’t even use a condom.”

“That wasn’t her fault,” Dean chimed in vehemently. “He _raped_ her. She didn’t have control over what happened, during or after.”

Your father looked like he was going to say something but just then the doorbell rang, breaking the tension and making you all jump. Your mother hurried to answer it.

"Oh! Jeff…” she said breathlessly and her eyes shot back to you. “You know, this isn’t really a good time.”

“Hey Karen, just came over to see if Tom was done with that wrench I lent you guys.”

You froze. That was a voice you could never forget, no matter how many drugs you pumped into your system. Almost unconsciously you took a few steps backwards, your entire body beginning to shake. Sam caught on to your panic and took a step forward, placing his hand on your arm lightly, but even that caused you to jump.

“Jeff!” your father called, the glee on his face manic and taunting. “C’mon in! There’s someone here who’s been dying to see you.”

Jeff pushed past your mother and stepped into the living room and you thought you might vomit. He looked the same as you remembered him, just a bit older. Upon seeing you his smile grew and you had to stop yourself from recoiling. You hadn’t thought seeing him again would bring on this kind of reaction, it had been years, and you felt like you should be stronger than this. But then again, you never thought you’d have to see him again.

“Well, well, well,” he said slowly, looking you up and down. “Little Y/N. Didn’t think I’d see you around here again. Miss me?” he had the audacity to wink at you. When he took a step forward Sam stepped in front of you protectively. Jeff raised his eyebrows but leaned around Sam to talk to you.

“Aw looks like you got yourself a boyfriend, huh?” he looked at Sam. “I wouldn’t bother, buddy. Truth be told, she wasn’t a very good fuck. And trust me, when I finished with her that pussy wasn’t nearly as tight as when it started out.” your father and Jeff laughed.

Before you had time to register what had happened Sam and Dean had pulled out their guns and you stepped behind them. Clearly your parents and Jeff weren’t prepared for this reaction and your mother screamed while your father and Jeff held up their hands, shock evident on their faces.

“Give me a reason, I dare you.” Dean growled.

“Still can’t fight your own battles, huh?” Jeff taunted you, though he had his eyes trained on Dean’s gun. “Still the same scared little girl, aren’t you?”

Dean took a step towards him. “You don’t talk to her.” He said threateningly. “You don’t even look at her.”

“Or what?” your father asked. “You’ll shoot us?” he laughed.

“Oh believe me, I won’t hesitate.” Dean said, and you knew he wasn’t lying.

You saw your mother reach for her phone out of the corner of your eye and Sam turned his gun on her.

“Don’t.” he hissed, and though you knew he wouldn’t shoot her, she didn’t and she stopped moving.

Your father took advantage of Sam’s distraction with your mother to hit him in the arm and knocked his gun out of his hand. Dean turned towards the ruckus and Jeff grabbed his wrist, and the two of them fought for the gun. The men were fighting, and though Sam and Dean were doing incredibly well you saw that your father and Jeff were getting a few punches in. Jeff somehow got a hold of Dean’s gun and pointed it at you and the fighting instantly stopped. You saw Sam’s gun out of the corner of your eye and dove to grab it, but Jeff took a shot, catching you in the side and you fell to the ground, the gun skittering away from you. The fighting stopped instantly and with a gun pointed at you Sam and Dean were hesitant to do anything, for fear that you would get shot again.

Jeff was laughing and your father looked shocked, but like he was in no hurry to intervene. Your mother was crying hysterically.

 _Cas._ You prayed desperately. _Castiel, please. We need you._ I _need you._

The next thing you knew there was a bright flash of light and Castiel was standing behind Jeff, who turned around and fired a round into Castiel’s chest. However, Castiel barely flinched, gripped Jeff’s wrist and twisted until the gun dropped out of his hand.

“What the fuck?” Jeff demanded as Castiel forced him to his knees. Sam and Dean hurried to grab their guns and cocked them, ready for whatever happened next. “What are you?”

“I’m an angel of the Lord.” Castiel said angrily. “And believe me when I tell you, there is a special place in Hell for you. You will know pain unlike any other for what you have done to Y/N. I’ll make sure of it.” With that he placed his other hand over Jeff’s face and after a burning light and the sound of screaming, Jeff dropped lifelessly to the ground, his eyes burned out of his skull.

Castiel turned to your parents, clearly intent on giving them the same treatment and your father took a step forward angrily, and he was close enough to grab you around the neck and place you in front of his body, shielding him.

“Shoot me, and you’ll have to shoot her too!” he yelled but Dean just rolled his eyes and fired, hitting him between the eyes.

“I’m a better shot than that, asshole.” He said while Sam hurried to you, taking off his flannel and wadding it up, pressing it against the wound in your side.

Castiel began walking to your wailing mother, his hand held up but you shouted.

“No, Cas!”

“Y/N they abused you, kicked you out and sided with your rapist.” Sam said, supporting your weight.

“She deserves it, kid.” Dean chimed in but you shook your head.

Your mother spoke up from the corner of the room. “You’re not going to kill me?” she asked, eyeing Cas nervously.

“I thought about it.” you admitted. “For years I kept myself alive imagining what it would feel like to kill you, what a relief it would be. But truthfully, I think in your own way, you were a victim too. Sure you were a shitty mother, and you probably deserve to die with those scumbags,” her eyes flitted to the bodies on the ground. “But you were scared, and hurting, just like me. So I’m going to leave you alive, because I won’t do to you what they did to me.”       

Dean looked at you cautiously. “You sure, kid?” he asked and you nodded.

“I just want to go home.” You said, exhausted and Sam nodded, lifting you into his arms effortlessly, apologizing when you winced.

Castiel took a step forward and placed two fingers on your mother’s forehead, and she collapsed on the ground.

“She will not remember anything after you three rung the doorbell.” He said in answer to your confused faces.

Once you were all safely in the Impala Castiel healed your wound. You were still utterly exhausted and ended up falling asleep on Castiel’s shoulder for a portion of the drive. When you woke up it was to Cas carrying you into a hotel room. As you woke up you realized it wasn’t the shabby quality motel you usually stayed in, but an actual, four-star hotel and your eyebrows creased.

“Figured we’d spring for a real hotel,” Dean explained as Cas placed you on the soft bed. “You deserve to be spoiled a bit.”

“Aw, Winchester are you going soft on me?” you said and Dean laughed.

“You wish,” Dean said, but he kissed your forehead.

Sam had gone out to get food and you opted to take a shower to wash off the blood coating your skin. While you were still reeling from the events of the last twenty-four hours you felt like a weight had been lifted off of your chest, that had been sitting there for years. As you exited the shower, and changed into clean clothes, you caught sight of yourself in the mirror and it was like you were looking at a different person. The girl who’d been abused and raped, and the homeless girl were still there, but she was…less prevalent. There was a whole new light shining out of your eyes. You were almost…happy? And that scared you. You’d been fighting your entire life, running and terrified and you weren’t used to feeling like this. And it frightened you that you felt like this because two people were dead. Did that make you a monster too? Did that make you as bad as them? Did you deserve to burn in Hell too?

There was a knock on the bathroom door and you jumped. When you opened it Castiel was staring at you, sympathy in his eyes.

“You know…angel’s can hear thoughts.” He said and it dawned on you that he’d heard your mental panic attack just now. “You are not a monster, Y/N. They were evil, evil men who deserved what they got. And to be relieved that they are gone from this Earth does not make you a bad person. There is nothing wrong with wanting your abusers to suffer as you did. I am still learning to understand human emotions and feelings, but believe me when I tell you that you are _good_. What has happened to you does not make you less than.”

You opened your mouth to speak, to thank him but all that came out was a broken sob. The reality of what had happened hit you like a bus and you burst out in tears. As you collapsed, Cas caught you and the two of you sank to the ground. He ran his fingers through your wet hair and held you tightly.

“You’re safe.” He kept repeating. “It’s over. You’re safe.”

It took a while for you to calm down, but when you did Sam was back with food and he and Dean echoed what Castiel had said, and the four of you settled in and relaxed, watching shitty movies on television and just sitting.

“I owe you guys an explanation.” You said quietly, tucked between Sam and Cas, who seemed reluctant to let you go.

“No you don’t—“ Sam started to say but you cut him off.

“Okay, then I _want_ to explain.” You told them. “About the baby.”

They all waited silently while you took a deep breath.

“My parent’s kicked me out when I realized I was pregnant.” You said quietly. “After I’d been living on the streets for a few weeks I’d managed to befriend some random dealer. I explained my…situation and he told me he had something that could help me. At that point I was pretty desperate. I didn’t care what it was, I just knew I could not have his child, so I took it. That was the first time I did heroin. He got me hooked pretty quick and well…drug use and malnutrition doesn’t exactly lead to a healthy pregnancy. I lost the baby not long after that.”

“Y/N why you didn’t tell us?” Sam said, and though you knew he was looking at you, you couldn’t meet his gaze, you just kept staring at the floor, tears flowing down your cheeks.

“It’s not exactly an easy conversation to have, Sam.” You said hoarsely. “You’d already done so much for me. Plus, I didn’t want you to look at me any differently.”

“Why would we look at you any differently?” Cas asked, confused.

“I injected something into my body that I knew full well would kill the baby.” You were still ashamed. “I killed an innocent child, because of my own fear and shame.”

“You did what you had to.” Dean said from across the room.

Sam nodded. “He’s right, Y/N. You were alone and scared and it caused you to do something you aren’t proud of, but ultimately it was the best choice for you. We’ve all been there.”

“That child is in heaven, safe from pain.” Castiel said and you looked up at him, tears in your eyes. “Take solace in that if nothing else.”

Dean stood up and came to sit on the bed that you, Sam, and Cas were cuddled up on. He reached out and took your hand.

“You’re safe now too, Y/N.” he said and you squeezed his hand. “You’re home.”

You smiled and looked at the three of them, these three men who had taken you in, helped you heal, protected you, trusted you, loved you. You knew it would be a rough journey, but that was nothing new, and so far you’d survived one-hundred percent of your worst days, so you were certain with the help of the Winchesters and Castiel, you could survive whatever would come at you from now one. And for the first time that you could remember, you let those words sink in.

Safe. Home.

And you were.


End file.
